City of Angels
by WithPaperAndPen
Summary: Emma and Jem Carstairs travel to Los Angeles for a week on business, but Emma has other plans that include solving a murder. However, she didn't plan on a wrench in her careful plan of 'conceal, don't feel' - Julian Blackthorn, a troubled Shadowhunter with his own mysteries. TDA AU, Blackstairs


**_A/N: This is one of two AUs that I've been working on for a while, and now I'm pleased to debut this one! :D In this fic, Jem stopped being Zachariah a few years earlier (around 1996-97) and Emma's parents didn't die in the Mortal War (although Andrew Blackthorn still did). Jem and Tessa are married and live in the London Institute. Much thanks to cityoftmitexts/blackthornvevo on Tumblr for the idea for this AU!_**

* * *

_July, 1997_

Jem Carstairs opened the door of the London Institute, smiling slightly at Brother Enoch. "What brings you to my doorstep in the middle of the afternoon?" The Shadowhunter asked. Enoch inclined his head slightly.

"_John and Cordelia Carstairs are dead." _Enoch spoke gravely in Jem's mind. Jem leaned against the doorframe in shock. The last of his family – dead? "_Their daughter, however, survived."_ Jem looked confused.

"They didn't have children." He protested. In answer, a small blonde head poked out from behind Enoch's legs.

"_You did not know everything that transpired in your family, Jem." _Enoch said gravely. _"Will you accept guardianship of the little Carstairs?"_

"Jian?" Tessa asked, approaching her husband and laying a hand on his shoulder. "What's happened?"

"John and Cordelia are dead." Jem informed Tessa, who looked just as shocked as Jem had. Neither one of them were very close with the remaining Carstairs, but Tessa had long been entwined with the Carstairs family, and it was a loss to her that the last of Jem's family was gone. "They had a daughter and she survived. Enoch wants to know if we can take her in."

Tessa knelt down to the little girl's level. "Of course we'll take her in." She said in a soft voice. Jem nodded at Enoch.

"We will raise her as if she were our own." He promised. Enoch turned to leave, leaving the little girl standing alone on the steps. Jem crouched down next to Tessa. "What's your name, _xiao yi?_" He asked her quietly. Her brown eyes were unreadable.

"Emma." The little girl whispered. "Are you my new mommy and daddy? The hooded man said my real mommy and daddy are dead."

Tessa's heart broke. "Yes, sweetheart. If you would like us to be, we will be your new parents." Emma looked up at Jem with trust in her eyes. Jem was caught off-guard.

"Okay." Emma nodded, reaching out a hand for Jem. "I'll be your little girl. I'll be good, I promise."

Jem smiled, recognizing the signature Carstairs need for approval. "I'm sure you will be." He encouraged, swinging her up into his arms. "Welcome to London, Emma Carstairs."

* * *

**_Fourteen years later…_**

_THUNK!_

Sixteen-year-old Emma Carstairs threw the knife with ease, smirking slightly as it landed in the center of the target, not even quivering as it hit his mark. She turned around and raised her eyebrows at the two on-lookers.

"That was very well-executed," said Jem Carstairs, a soft smile on his face. "You've certainly seemed to master the art of knife-throwing." Tessa nodded in agreement. Emma basked in their praise for a moment before turning back to inspect the target. She noticed something that made her face fall, and Tessa stepped forward in concern.

"What is it, Emma?" She asked, noticing the look of anger on the teenager's face. Emma gestured to a knife that was, upon extremely close inspection, centimeters outside the target's bulls-eye.

"I didn't hit the center." She said, annoyance in her voice. Tessa placed a consoling hand on Emma's shoulder.

"You certainly hit it enough times!" Tessa said, pointing to the five knives that were in the target's center. Emma yanked them out, letting the blades clatter to the floor.

"It's not good enough. Five out of six isn't good enough." She muttered, striding back to her starting point. Jem watched her warily.

"What are you doing, _xiao yi_?" He asked her.

"Going again." Emma answered shortly, throwing the knives with more aggression than necessary. Tessa laid a gentle hand on her husband's arm.

"Let's go, my love." She whispered. "Leave her to her own for a while." Jem reluctantly left the training room with Tessa trailing behind him. Emma watched them go before finishing her exercises. Once she was sure she was alone, she sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her target (which proudly displayed six knives in the center) and pulled a folded picture out of the pocket she had sewn into her gear.

It was a picture of a couple, both beaming up at the camera. The woman was of average height and build for a Shadowhunter, with dark runes twining over her arms and neck. Her husband was standing behind her, his arm slung over her shoulder. His blond hair was shining in the sun and his intense eyes were peering into the camera lens as if he was judging whether the photographer was a threat to his safety or not. The woman's hand was protectively resting on her belly, and Emma could see a tiny bulge peeking through her loose clothing. Flipping the picture over, Emma ran her fingers over the script on the back. _John and Cordelia Carstairs, Los Angeles, 1995. _Her parents.

Jem didn't know that Emma had found that photograph, and Emma didn't want him to know. She didn't think her cousin, who had raised her from the time she was three, would take the picture away from her, but there was something special about staring at the faces of parents she never knew that she wanted to keep to herself. If she squinted, she could see herself in her mother's eyes, and definitely in her father's hair and facial expression. It made her heart ache to think about her parents, but still she didn't stop. She was just a glutton for punishment in that way.

Sighing, Emma stood to her feet, reclaimed her knives and exited the training room. She knew every twist and turn of the London Institute, having been raised there for most of her life, and she walked the labyrinth of halls easily and quickly. After a quick stop at the weapons room to clean and stash her knives, she wandered downstairs to the library, where Tessa was seated at the desk.

"Ooh, demonic languages!" Emma exclaimed, peering over Tessa's shoulder. Tessa smiled, by now used to the curious girl's interference with her research.

"More like demonic curse words. I'll never know how Magnus expects me to get anything out of this text. It's mostly senseless raving." Emma cracked a smile and Tessa covered the page with her hand. "And if you, Miss Carstairs, think that I'm going to let you teach yourself swear words in _yet another _language, you are wrong."

Emma fake-glared at the back of Tessa's head. "Fine. I'm going to go get changed and walk around a bit before dinner, okay?"

"That's fine." Tessa said. "Just take your cell phone and be back before six." Emma nodded her consent and exited the room. She threw on an old T-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans before shoving her phone in her pocket and running outside. The crisp fall air blew through her hair as she closed the heavy wooden door of the Institute and set off along the path to what used to be Whitechapel High Street.

Emma loved being left alone to wander the streets of London. Sometimes she'd listen to music while she walked aimlessly from Blackfriar's Bridge down to the railroad tracks, and other times she'd just be alone with her thoughts, letting the city noise wash over her. She was an only child, and the only people she was ever around were Jem and Tessa, so loneliness was no stranger. Emma didn't mind being along, not at all, but she knew it worried her surrogate parents, so she attempted (for their sakes) to make friends with the children of Shadowhunter families that would occasionally visit London. Those friendships never lasted; the children found Emma too abrasive and aloof, and Emma found them dull, boring, insulting, or stupid. After several different interactions like this, Jem (with slight exasperation) had given Emma permission to remain friendless as long as she kept an open mind and kept being kind to visitors. Emma had reluctantly agreed, as it was better than Jem and Tessa mandating that she make a friend (which is what they had previously done).

After a few hours of wandering London, walking from Blackfriar's Bridge to the remains of Whitechapel High Street and back, Emma decided to go home. As she reentered the Institute, she heard faint strains of violin music emanating from the library, and she couldn't help but smile. The library's door was slightly open and Emma could see Jem standing by the window, his eyes closed as beautiful music poured from his instrument. Emma's heart hurt as she listened. She had often wished that she had the ability to put her feelings into music like Jem could. She wasn't much good with words, and her musical talents left much to be decided, and the only way she could truly expel her feelings was in training. Still, sometimes she wished she could create something beautiful rather than just destroy things.

"You're home early, Xiao Yi." Jem said, ceasing his music and turning to greet his daughter. Emma stepped into the library, sitting on the edge of the table. "I thought you'd be out for another hour at least."

Emma shrugged. "It got boring." She played with the blonde ends of her braid. Jem gently placed the violin back in its case before sitting in an armchair facing Emma. Church, their blue-grey Persian, jumped into Jem's lap, and Emma unwittingly flinched away. Church was an ornery cat that had been alive longer than Emma had, and Church hated everyone in the Institute except for Jem.

"I'd like to ask you about something." Jem said, petting the cat.

"Sure. What's going on?" Emma asked, swinging her legs back and forth.

"I've been asked by the Clave to visit the Los Angeles Institute for a week and I was wondering if you'd like to come with me. I think it would be a great educational opportunity for you and it would give you a chance to see how the United States Conclave works."

Emma's hand inadvertently went to her pocket, where the photograph of her parents was tucked. _Los Angeles_. That's where her parents had lived and that's where they died. Maybe if she went, she would be able to find out what happened, or at the very least, find someone who knew her parents.

"Sure." Emma gave Jem a smile. "I'd love to come with you."


End file.
